


Brother Knows Best

by LilySunnyFlower



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilySunnyFlower/pseuds/LilySunnyFlower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever thought about what happens to your phone number when you die?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear reader,  
> this is the first english fanfic I've ever posted. 
> 
> I felt inspired by the fact that I still have the number of a person I lost last year in my contact list. So I guess I am kind of dedicating this fic to them, although they never knew I wrote and would never have read it anyway. 
> 
> I want to thank my beta reader klainebowsanddramioneflies for her fast work :)

* * *

 

“ _Dude. I don't think that this is the right apartment.”_

_Finn's voice sounded quite muffled against the paper of the boxes he was carrying and Kurt had to lean a little bit into his direction to properly understand what he way saying._

“ _No Finn, I am pretty sure we're right.” Kurt answered and looked around the room over the one box that was secure in his arms._

“ _Dude... that's...”_

“ _I know.”_

 _The apartment was tiny and old. Paint chipped off the walls, the carpet sure had seen better times and the furniture... let's just say Kurt looked forward to browsing the flea_ _markets._ _But anything was better than his previous living arrangement._ _He was sure that living in this shoe box would be a hundred times better than living with Adam Crawford._

“ _Are you sure you don't want to come home?”_ _Finn asked, clearly concerned as he unloaded the boxes onto the nearest coffee table._

 

_Which collapsed right afterwards._

 

 _As tempting as the offer was... Kurt declined. Again._ _The thought of facing his dad after months of lying to his face about, well,_ _ **everything**_ _made his stomach queasy and shame fill_ _every fiber of his body. He wasn't ready. He so wasn't._

_His brother's face after Kurt had called him and asked him to come to New York to help him move had been humiliating enough._

“ _Just... leave that mess where it is. I'll clean it up after I...” Kurt looked around and kind of wanted to say “renovate”. But money was scarce, his schedule was full and he couldn't do it by himself. His brother would be leaving tomorrow, sadly, since he couldn't stay more than a few days away from Lima._

 _Finn looked at him with understanding and took the box Kurt was still holding in his arms to put it on the floor. Inside was what had been left of his wardrobe and Kurt felt a lump form in his throat._ _Before he knew it his brother engulfed him in a hug, a hand coming up to the back of his head and Kurt pressed his tear streaked face into the fabric of Finn's t-shirt._

“ _I am so sorry that I can't help you more, little brother.”_

 _Kurt nodded wordlessly. He knew how sorry Finn was_ _-_ _he had told him several times over the last three_ _days. But it wasn't Finn´s fault. It wasn't his fault that he had been stupid enough to think that he_ _and Adam were_ _**it**_ _. It wasn't his fault that Kurt had decided, on the spur of a moment , to move into Adam's apartment, leaving his part of the Bushwick furniture behind, ignoring anyone who told him that he was moving too fast and should have a backup plan._

 

_Just in case._

 

 _Just in case_ _**what**_ _though?_

 

_Even Santana hadn't been able to predict what Adam would turn into as soon as Kurt had been safely situated inside his four walls. And she prided herself on her mexican third eye after all._

 

“ _You know what, Kurt?”_

 _Kurt lifted his head and wiped at his face, looking up into his brother's_ _face with glassy eyes._

“ _I will never let anyone treat you like that ever again. When you decide to date again-...”_ _And Finn apparently didn't have a doubt that Kurt would date again someday. Unlike Kurt himself._ “ _Then you have to introduce that guy to me as soon as possible. And I will scare him away... unless he gets the seal of... Finnproval!”_

_Although Kurt still felt quite desperate he had to laugh at his brother's words._

“ _Promise?”_ _Kurt asked, his voice a little scratchy and his smile a little shaky but still secure on his lips. A warm feeling spread through his body because even in hard times like these he could be sure of one thing._

_His brother loved him._

“ _Promise, little bro. Everything will work out.”_

 

* * *

 

Three years down the road and Kurt was living in a nicer apartment, had a nice job at vogue.com and his brother was dead.

 

* * *

 

The day of his brother’s death had been the second worst day of Kurt's life.

 

Sometimes when he'd lie awake in bed at night he could still hear his Dad's choked up voice telling him that there “ _has been an accident at the garage_ ”, that “ _some guy lost control_ ” and that “ _Finn didn't... make it, bud. He's gone._ ”.

Kurt hadn't believed him. He had hung up as soon as Burt had finished his sentence and he had called his brother’s number

The call had gone straight to voicemail.

And he had known.

Because Finn had never shut off his phone. Not since that night when Kurt had called him about Adam - not since that night where Finn had dropped everything and came rushing to New York to get his brother out. Finn always took his calls.

 

Kurt had still tried it a few times more.

 

Until he had broken down crying and hadn't left his apartment for days.

The heartache had dulled ever since but there were still times where he couldn't get out of bed. On days like these, Kurt desperately wished for someone to take him in his arms and promise him that everything would be okay someday.

But Kurt hadn't dated since Adam and he sure as hell didn't plan to. So seeking shelter in someone else's arms wasn't really an option.

But sometimes Kurt just got too lonely. And that usually led to him sitting in bars until late at night, letting himself be chatted up by some stranger, accepting their hands on his body, even their lips on his neck sometimes. It satisfied the longing for a few hours, though it was never enough. But Kurt couldn't bring himself to let someone in because _Finn wasn't there anymore to get him out_ , if it went sour eventually. And although Kurt thought of himself as someone who could defend himself, he was still scared.

 

His brother had promised him that no one would touch him again without his approval. And now there was no way for this to happen.

 

All that was left of him was an old letterman jacket and his phone number in Kurt's contacts.

Maybe it was weird thing to do. The person that number had belonged to was long gone and Kurt couldn't explain why he kept it. Whenever he changed his phone Finn's contact information stayed with him, almost as if his brother was just one finger tap away, almost as if he could just call and would hear the obligatory “Hey dude, what's up!?” as soon as Finn picked up.

 

He never would. But that was irrelevant.

Kurt kept the number and that was it.

It was his phone after all and he could do whatever he wanted with it.

 

* * *

 

“You know what you need to do, Hummel? You need to get laid.”

Kurt didn't even lift his head to dignify Santana with his patented bitch glare and concentrated on spooning more cookie dough ice cream into a bowl.

He could hear Rachel slapping Santana with her faux leather gloves in the background.

“As if you aren't secretly thinking the same thing, Berry! Spending his Friday nights on the couch with ice cream and _The Notebook_. What twenty-threeyear old does that!? He needs to loosen up and a good orgasm will do that to him.”

“It's not _The Notebook_.” Kurt defended himself and turned around, bowl in his hands and the spoon already halfway to his mouth. He was so annoyed by this conversation already. Every few weeks his friends paid him a visit to drag him out into a bar or a club to get him to have fun, but he didn't feel it lately.

And while Rachel always accepted his refusal, Santana's responses got nastier every time.

“Oh is it _Moulin Rouge_ for a change?” snapped the devil herself and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Kurt just rolled his eyes and complimented his two friends out of the door. Until next time, that was for sure.

He knew they just meant well, though Santana had a crude way of showing it. They were worried about him and it wasn't like Kurt gave them no reason to worry. He had been getting a bit moody lately - he had to admit that even to himself.

 

Because he was just so damn lonely.

 

But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, so he curled up on his couch with ice cream and his boyfriend pillow (nobody knew about that. Thank god that he wasn't roommateswith the girls anymore) and watched romantic movies while feeling a slight pang in his chest every time onecharacter confessed their love to another.

 

* * *

 

There wasn't a year July 13thdidn't hurt and Kurt doubted that it would ever stop hurting.

This year was especially bad, because for the first time in three years he didn't have the money to fly out to Ohio to spend the day with his parents to grieve together. Or visit his brother's grave.

Instead he laid in his bed, wrapped up in the old letterman jacket that had lost it's comforting smell long ago, praying that this day would pass as fast as possible. He ignored his parent's phone calls until they stopped coming in and he ignored everything else. He just wanted to sleep but it never came.

 

 _Oooh  
Her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining _   

 

Kurt's eyes flew open and his body went cold immediately.

 

_Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her trying_

 

This was impossible.

 

_She’s so beautiful and I tell her everyday_

 

He couldn't get his blanket off of him fast enough as he stumbled out of bed, nearly fell to the floor because the feeling in his legs was just gone, and across the room to his dresser where his phone was lying. Kurt picked it up with shaking hands, looked at his screen and his blood ran cold. His brother's name flashed on the screen.

 

_Yeah I know, I know when I compliment her she won’t believe me  
And it’s so, it’s so sad to think tha-... _

 

Kurt picked up. But could say nothing.

 

“Hey man, care to meet me at 6 instead of 4 today? I totally overslept my alarm, I know, I know “ _What are you doing sleeping in broad daylight?_ ” but I was tired and just wanted to nap and that nap turned into 3 hours.”

It wasn't Finn. Of course not.

“Wes? Hey man, are you there?” asked the man after some time had passed without any response and Kurt cleared his throat. He meant to say “Sorry, wrong number,” but instead blurted out.

“Where did you get that number?”

 

A moment of confused silence. 

 

“You're not Wes. Oh god I am so sorry, I must have switched up a digit or two when I saved his new number into my phone, I am gonna hang up now and die of embara-...”

“No, no please don't!” Kurt heard himself whisper and wasn't that pathetic? He wasn't even talking to his brother but there was just something about picking up the phone with his brother's name flashing on his screen that did something to him. And he was scared to hang up.

“Okay? I am sorry, can I ask who this is?”

Kurt took a deep breath.

“My name is Kurt, and... you just called my phone with my dead brother's number.”

 

Another moment of silence.

 

“Oh my god.”

Kurt closed his eyes and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall not for the first and certainly not for the last time today. A lump formed in his throat and he had to choke down a sob as he wrapped himself tighter in the letterman jacket. A sudden rush of embarrassment made him flush and he forced himself to get a grip and cleared his throat.

“I-I-I am so sorry, I shouldn't bother you with that. You need to get in touch with your friend and I am holding you back with my pathetic sob story. Please just forge-...”

“Hey, no, no, no, no! None of that. You're not pathetic and none of this is your fault, please don't feel bad."

Taking another shuddering breath Kurt slowly began walking back to his bedto sit down. He still couldn't feel his legs. The man on the phone continued talking.

“I mean-... wow. That's pretty intense, I would be freaking out too.”

Kurt couldn't help but chuckle a bit darkly because the stranger had no idea.

“Can you imagine that it's actually the anniversary of his death?” he said, his voice raspy, and he hearda sharp intake of breath following his statement.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.”

 

Silence.

 

“I am Blaine by the way. I am sorry, I didn't think about introducing myself before but you kind of caught me off guard.”

“Who wouldn't be.”

“Yeah.”

 

Silence.

 

“You're not okay, are you?”

  
Silence.

 

“No I'm not. I'm really not.”

That was the moment Kurt broke down crying after all.

 

* * *

 

Blaine had stayed with him on the phone for hours. He, a complete stranger, had put comforting Kurt over meeting his friend just like that, and to this day Kurt has a hard time believing that someone did that for him. 

He hadn't uttered a word for a long time. Then started to sing a little tune, like a lullaby, and Kurt thanked whoever was up there, that he hadn't fallen asleep because Blaine's voice had been so comforting, so smooth and right. It had felt like an embrace.

What were the odds though? What twist of fate lead to Blaine getting Finn's old number, what lead to him switching those damn three digits (206) when he had saved his friend's new number into his phone?

 

What lead to Kurt meeting Blaine?

 

Well, one can say for sure that the actual meeting, face to face, occurred because of one phone call on a fateful day in July.

 

The phone call itself though? That would stay a mystery forever.

 

…

 

But Kurt was glad that Blaine had gotten Finn's approval after all.

  
  


 


End file.
